Assassin
by purplehairedwonder
Summary: When CIA agent Blaine Anderson is sent to kill rogue MI6 operative Sebastian Smythe, their history in the field together complicates the mission. Spy!AU. First in the Assassin 'verse.


**Author's Note:** This AU was inspired by late night blogging on Tumblr and the John Mayer song "Assassin," which seems like a good representation of Seblaine, so I decided to take it literally as well. I'm rather fond of how this turned out, so I'll probably be writing more in this 'verse.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

**Assassin**

* * *

Blaine kept his gun trained on the man across the room and watched as his lips twisted upward into an all-too-familiar smirk over the gun _he_ had trained on Blaine.

"Well, well. Long time no see, Killer."

"Sebastian," Blaine greeted, inclining his head, though his chest clenched at the knowing look on Sebastian's face.

"I thought they'd send you," Sebastian said, watching Blaine carefully. "You're here to kill me, right?"

"Who else is there to send?" Blaine replied. He tightened his grip on his gun. "I know you better than anyone."

"Did you tell them you could _handle_ me?" Sebastian asked, one eyebrow quirking up in a challenge. "Because we've fucked our way through a few safe houses?"

Blaine swallowed. "No," he said. "I asked for this one. For us."

He watched Sebastian's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and a flash of uncertainty crossed his face before he schooled his features again.

Sebastian Smythe, despite his youth, was one of MI6's best operatives, though he was American. He grew up in Paris while his father served in the military; his father retired back to the States where he became a well-respected attorney while Sebastian went to high school in New York. He attended college in London and, in what was commonly considered an intelligence coup and a slap in the face to the CIA, was recruited by MI6 immediately after he graduated.

Blaine knew Sebastian's file by heart, having read it over and over again since they started running into each other in the field. They were the same age, had started their intelligence careers at the same time, and their meteoric rises within their respective agencies had mirrored one another's. But where Sebastian had defected to another country, Blaine had been recruited by the CIA.

As a child, Blaine had wanted to be a performer, but he hadn't been able to so much as sing in the shower since he'd been the victim of a particularly violent hate crime when he was 14. Afterward, his parents had transferred him to a private school where he'd kept his head down and studied, sometimes throwing longing looks at the school's glee club but never giving in to temptation. He then got into Stanford, where he studied political science; before being recruited by the Company, he'd planned on going to law school and becoming an LGBT activist, but he instead found himself on the Farm with other potential agents within weeks of graduating magna cum laude.

He and Sebastian had met on Blaine's second mission in Rio, where they'd been set to exchange packages and had ended up with their covers blown, hiding out in a safe house for a couple of memorable days while they waited for extraction. Their paths continued to cross regularly after that, frequently teaming up, even if their respective organization's interests weren't completely aligned. They had an easy rapport, undeniable chemistry, and were two of the best in their line of work, so made a nearly unstoppable team.

But a month earlier, it had become apparent that there was a leak in the CIA. Analysts were able to trace sensitive information about American assets in Europe back to MI6. And when news reached the agency about the deaths of six assets in Britain with dozens more likely, Sebastian, and by proxy Blaine, had been the prime suspect.

"You asked for this," Sebastian echoed flatly.

"The higher ups didn't want me near this," Blaine replied. "But I wasn't going to let anyone else confront you."

"So is that your twisted idea of mercy?" Sebastian asked with a wry smile.

"I—"

Sebastian shook his head. "Never mind. And I guess you wouldn't believe me if I said I was innocent."

Blaine faltered briefly as he watched Sebastian's carefully controlled expression. He knew the other man well enough to get a read on his well-crafted poker face, and there was something he wasn't saying.

"Not without proof," Blaine replied, eyeing Sebastian's gun once more. "You know that."

Sebastian snorted; it was an ugly sound that made Blaine wince. "Proof, right."

Blaine frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tell me something, Blaine. Do you have any of that proof that I'm the security breach? That I've been funneling information from you to MI6? Or is it just convenient speculation by your superiors?"

"Since you seem to know exactly why I'm here," Blaine retorted, something uncomfortable squirming in his gut, "you're not looking particularly innocent right now, Sebastian." Blaine had been the obvious link considering his connection to an MI6 agent, but Blaine hadn't seen the results of an investigation other than the polygraph he'd passed after the deaths had been reported.

Sebastian scoffed. "Please. I have my sources the same as you."

"So where does that leave us?" Blaine asked, glancing down momentarily as Sebastian's free hand clenched and unclenched at his side.

He cursed himself for letting the movement distract him as Sebastian lunged toward him. Blaine barely had time to throw his arms up in defense before Sebastian threw a punch. Blaine winced as the blow connected, his gun flying from his hand, but he quickly recovered and kicked Sebastian in the stomach, knocking the other man backward, _his_ gun clattering across the floor.

Sebastian dropped to a knee and, after a calculated glance at Blaine, pulled the rug out from under his feet. Blaine stumbled with a curse and Sebastian sprang forward, swiping his feet out and taking Blaine out at the knees. Blaine's back hit the floor and his breath left his lungs in a rush, but he managed to roll out of the way as Sebastian tried to drop an elbow.

They rolled away from each other, Sebastian breathing hard while Blaine tried to recover his breath, and locked gazes again. They'd always been evenly-matched on a hand-to-hand level.

"Like old times, eh?" Sebastian said with a laugh and a wince.

Blaine let out a startled laugh, memories of those first missions flashing across his mind's eye. There had been fights that left them both sore and bruised—both against each other and other spies—and then sex, usually on every surface available, that left them both more sore and bruised in the aftermath.

"And look at us now," Blaine replied grimly, his smile slipping.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed and, after only a brief pause, he started moving again. The move forced Blaine in motion as well so they ended up slowly circling each other and watching for an opening. When Sebastian glanced down to step over the pooled rug in his path, Blaine took the chance to leap forward, punching Sebastian across the jaw. Momentarily stunned, Sebastian reeled back and Blaine pressed his advantage with an upper cut, but Sebastian dodged it, forcing Blaine off balance.

Sebastian punched Blaine once in the stomach and Blaine gasped before he felt the world tip and his feet leave the ground. He fell, blinking in surprise when his back and legs hit something soft—the bed. He was about to roll off when a heavy weight pressed him down onto the mattress. Blaine made to punch Sebastian, who had crawled onto his thighs, but he had no leverage and Sebastian caught his fist and managed to pin Blaine's arms down on either side of his head.

Blaine tried to buck Sebastian off, but the other man just pressed down harder with his body weight, leaving Blaine no avenue for escape. Realizing his struggles were futile, Blaine went still.

_If he were going to kill me, he would've shot me the moment I walked into his hotel room_, Blaine thought as he studied Sebastian's impassive face warily for any hint of what he might be thinking. _Or he would have gone for a fatal blow just now. Something else is going on here._

"What now?" Blaine asked quietly into the silence that had fallen, interrupted only by each man's harsh breathing.

"Now you listen to me," Sebastian replied.

"_You_ attacked first," Blaine pointed out.

"And _you_ snuck into my hotel room with a loaded gun."

Blaine pursed his lips but didn't disagree. "So, talk."

"I'm not the leak," Sebastian said immediately. "I'm not stealing information from the CIA through you or anything like that."

Blaine swallowed. He and Sebastian had a lot of history together, so the implication that he'd been using Blaine to spy on the CIA had felt like a complete betrayal. "I want to believe you, Bas. I do," Blaine said, licking his bottom lip. Sebastian's gaze dropped to his mouth for a moment, but returned to his eyes when Blaine spoke again. "But you have to give me something."

"The Russians."

Blaine blinked at the seeming non-sequitur and made to sit up, but Sebastian squeezed his wrists more tightly so he fell back against the mattress with a huff. "What about the Russians?"

Sebastian sighed and looked like he wanted to run a hand through his hair, one of his nervous tics, but he kept his hands firmly on Blaine. "My bosses believe there is a mole in MI6, feeding intel to the Russians. A number of our assets have been killed on Russian soil in the last few months. I was on my way to St. Petersburg when we found out that a number of American assets had been killed in England."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Quite the coincidence."

Sebastian smiled grimly. "That's what we thought. MI6 started a separate investigation into those deaths from the CIA's and realized that witnesses to the murders had seen spies, but they weren't ours."

"So you think the Russians are trying to pit the CIA and MI6 against each other?" Blaine asked with a frown as he considered what Sebastian was saying.

"It makes sense," Sebastian replied with a shrug. "The current regime is becoming less and less friendly to Western interests."

"And with the Olympics coming up—"

"Creating conflict between America and Britain diverts energy both agencies could put toward stopping their attempts to illegally gain money and power," Sebastian concluded.

"Not to mention any other agencies they've gotten moles into," Blaine mused. "Wow."

"Exactly."

"It's a good story, Bas," Blaine said quietly. "But you haven't given me any proof."

"I'm not lying to you, Killer," Sebastian replied, pressing their chests together and rolling his hips.

Blaine's breath hitched and his head fell back against the mattress. "You lie for a living," he whispered to the ceiling.

Sebastian hummed and murmured into Blaine's ear, "Not to you." Blaine shuddered as Sebastian attached his lips to Blaine's jawline and started to suck.

"Liar," Blaine muttered as Sebastian pressed a knee between Blaine's legs. Blaine couldn't stop his hips from bucking up in a search for friction for his hardening cock.

"Easy tiger," Sebastian laughed, pressing kisses down Blaine's neck to his collarbone and letting go of his wrists to start untucking his shirt. Blaine's hands instinctually found their way to Sebastian's back and gripped the fabric of his shirt.

"You're such a cliché," Blaine laughed breathlessly. "Sexy British spy."

Sebastian snorted, the puff of air on Blaine's skin making him shiver. It was a familiar joke between them by now. "I'm not British," he replied in kind. "And I don't like martinis."

"The spy who loved me," Blaine murmured.

He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until he felt Sebastian tense above him. Blaine's eyes widened and he could feel his heart rate pick up, but then Sebastian pulled back and kissed him on the lips before pulling his shirt off.

* * *

Blaine's eyes drifted open, the feeling of another body close to his pulling him into full wakefulness. His first instinct was to look for danger, but it was only Sebastian straddling his hips while his face hovered inches over Blaine's. He could feel Sebastian's fingers entwined in his, their hands resting on the pillow above Blaine's head.

"Morning," Blaine replied, raising an eyebrow in question, though he couldn't keep his lips from lifting up into a smile.

"Morning, Killer," Sebastian replied, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. Blaine probably should've been suspicious, but he was still loose-limbed from the night before and felt himself getting hard already from Sebastian's apparent desire for round two.

"What are we doing here?" Blaine asked, rolling his hips up.

Sebastian smirked and ground down onto Blaine's growing erection, making them both gasp. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Blaine's, smiling into the kiss at the pleased sound that rumbled in the back of Blaine's throat. Blaine's eyes fluttered shut and he melted back into the mattress, the feel of Sebastian on top of him a comforting weight he never thought he'd feel again when he'd left D.C.

Blaine's eyes flew open at the unmistakable click of a handcuff shutting and he hissed at the feel of cool metal on his wrist. He pulled at his left arm, but it stopped short and the cuff clinked against the wood headboard. Sebastian pulled up off of Blaine and dropped back onto his heels, smirking as Blaine looked over his head to see his wrist cuffed to the headboard. He turned back to Sebastian and glared.

"What the hell, Sebastian?" he demanded as he sat up against the headboard, the bed sheet pooling around his waist and quickly softening erection.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "What? You sure seemed to like being tied up that weekend in Prague."

Blaine's eyes narrowed further and Sebastian threw up his hands defensively as he rolled off the bed. He was fully dressed as he leaned over to pull on his shoes. He was leaving, the jerk. Blaine mentally kicked himself for not suspecting it sooner.

"You know it won't take me long to get out of this," Blaine said, pulling at the handcuff again.

"I know. But I only need a few minutes' head start," Sebastian said with a shrug, straightening and grabbing a suitcase. "By the time you get out of that, I'll be long gone."

"You're an asshole."

"Says the guy who broke into my hotel room to kill me," Sebastian retorted.

"Bas—"

"Relax," Sebastian said, cutting him off. "It's all part of the spy game. We're both professionals, I get it." An unreadable look flashed across his face before his lips twitched again and the easy smirk was back. "I would've done the same."

Blaine clenched his jaw but didn't respond. Maybe it was childish, but he was competitive and Sebastian had pulled one over on him. He was going to get hell for this back at Langley.

Sebastian grabbed his bag and headed for the door, though he paused in the doorway. "I'll call you when I have new intel." He glanced back, eyes lighting up again as he dragged his eyes down Blaine's body one more time. "Let's do this again soon, Killer."

Blaine grabbed the pillow next to him and hurled it at Sebastian, who ducked and laughed as he disappeared down the hallway.

* * *

It took Blaine fifteen minutes to find something in his vicinity he could use to pick the lock on the handcuff. Once the cuff popped open, he hurriedly pulled on the clothes he'd been wearing the day before and rushed into the hallway and down the stairs. He slowed to a walk in the hotel lobby and stepped out onto the busy main street into the morning sunlight.

He looked around but, as expected, there was no sign of Sebastian in the throngs of people. Running a hand through curls that had come loose from the gel the night before, he headed back into the hotel and back up to Sebastian's room. After straightening furniture that had been knocked over during their fight, he went up two floors to the room he'd checked into before looking for Sebastian.

He shut the door to his room behind him and slumped back against it with a sigh. His middle ached from the beating it had taken the day before, but it was no worse off than his pride. Shaking his head, Blaine went to the bathroom and turned the sink on, then splashed some cool water in his face.

Blaine was contemplating what to do next—as well as a call to his handler, Sam—when he looked up in the mirror. His eyes immediately zeroed in on a large bruise on his jawline and his eyes widened in horror. He grabbed his phone and dialed without looking away from the mirror, his free hand tracing the purpling edges.

"You're such a jackass," Blaine growled as soon as Sebastian picked up.

Sebastian just laughed. "No hiding that bad boy from your friends at Langley, Blaine."

Blaine groaned and ran his hand over his face. "I should've shot you when I had the chance."

"Don't say things you don't mean," Sebastian admonished, and Blaine could _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

Blaine grumbled an irritated response that only made Sebastian laugh harder.

"I'll see you soon, Killer," he said before hanging up.

Blaine stared at his phone for a long moment before sighing in defeat and dialing Sam's number. He headed back into the main room and paused when he saw a folder sitting on his bed, a note in Sebastian's familiar scrawl on the front.

_B—_

_It would be a shame for that sweet ass to be chewed out over what turned into a pretty good night. _

_This intel is actionable re: the Russians._

—_S _

"Hey," Sam greeted. "Are you okay? You've been out of contact for a while."

"I'm fine," Blaine replied, opening the file with a growing smile. "But Sebastian's not the leak, and I have proof."

* * *

_fin_


End file.
